


SpyDad Birthday

by DeckofDragons



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Artistic Scout, Dad Spy, Fluff, Gen, Gift Fic, birthday fic, father/son bonding, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 10:12:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18233498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeckofDragons/pseuds/DeckofDragons
Summary: It's Spy's birthday and Scout needs to figure out what to get him for it.





	SpyDad Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> I got my first real request for a TF2 fic, yay! Nibs-Stuff, from Tumblr, requested this for their birthday today (March 25th), so Happy Birthday to them!

Spy’s birthday was a week away and Scout still hadn’t figured out what to get him. Last year, unsure of what Spy liked, he’d gotten him a fancy looking knife sharpener. It was practical since he had so many knives that probably needed sharpening sometimes. But purely practical gifts were only acceptable for people who weren’t close friends or family. This year he had to get him something personal. Coming up with a good idea for that that Spy would also be happy to receive was a lot harder than it seemed it should be.

Spy wasn’t the kind of person who liked sporting events or concerts so tickets for one or both of those things wouldn’t do. He liked books and reading but the books he liked were all big fancy ones, novels and such, most of them were in French too. Scout’s tendency to mix up words and letters made shopping for books difficult and stressful and also meant he’d have a hard time figuring out what kind of novels Spy liked which made it even harder to pick out a book for him. So that was essentially off the table as well.

Scout could draw him a picture like he did for his mom every year on her birthday. But as he sat at his desk in his room staring at the blank piece of paper laid out before him, he was faced with essentially the same problem; what kind of picture would Spy enjoy receiving as a gift? He was already an artist in his own right, a painter, what could Scout possibly draw him that he couldn’t just paint for himself?

With a groan, Scout put his pencil down before he chewed through the eraser and stood up to leave his room. His mind tended to work a bit better when he was out running or just walking around. So he’d go for a wonder around the base in hopes of enlightenment striking him even if that was unlikely.

Normally when faced with a problem he didn’t know the answer to, he asked Spy – he’d done that even before finding out Spy was his dad because Spy was the oldest on the team and therefore the wisest – that wasn’t an option here though. Well, technically it _was_ , but asking someone what they wanted for their birthday and then getting them that exact thing, ruined the surprise. While a lot of people didn’t care about the surprise, Scout did, a gift meant more to a person when they weren’t expecting it/didn’t know what it would be beforehand.

Maybe he could just bake Spy a birthday cake? But… his baking skills were less than good and he’d only just gotten back his rights to use the oven again after almost burning it down a few months ago in a failed attempt at making a casserole recipe one of his brothers had sent him. So yet another dead end. Ugh, why did Spy have to be so difficult to get gifts for?

Scout wondered into the kitchen to get a snack. Engie was in there, making coffee despite the fact it was in the middle of the afternoon. It was perfect timing though, he was also wise and knowledgeable about lots of stuff, right?

“Yo Engie,” Scout said loud enough to make Engie jump and turn around. “You have or have had a dad, right? What kind of gifts did you or do you get him for his birthday?”

Engie let out a breath as he relaxed. “My dad’s dead, even before then we kind of lost touch for a while. Back when I did get him gifts though, it was always something I made, little machines that did various things.”

“Oh.” That didn’t help at all. If anything, that made it harder. Scout had already considered drawing something which _would_ be a good gift if he had even an inkling of an idea on _what_ to draw.

“I take it you’re having trouble deciding what to get Spy for his birthday, right?”

“Yeah. Got any ideas?”

“Nope, sorry.” Engie shrugged. “Demo somehow convinced me and Medic to get him some butt-ugly sweaters we came across in town a couple days ago. I doubt you want to get him something like that.”

“Yeah, no.” Scout would normally be all for getting Spy a joke gift but that wouldn’t feel right when this was the first of Spy’s birthdays that Scout knew he was his dad. Also, only getting him a joke gift would be rude, he’d have to get him a real one too, putting him back at square one regardless.

“I’m sure whatever you end up getting him, he’ll like. So, don’t worry about it too much, kay?” Engie patted Scout on the arm.

“I’ll try not to.” But how could Scout not worry about something so important?

 

In the end, he almost ended up calling his mom to ask her what to get Spy. But she wasn’t even aware yet that he’d found his dad – he hadn’t found a good opportunity to tell her, it was a bit of a difficult topic – and while the topic didn’t ever come up everything Scout had gathered about the situation pointed heavily to Spy and her no longer being together. So, she might not be too pleased to be asked such a question.

But considering making such a call did give him an idea. It maybe wasn’t a good idea but he was out of time to buy anything or work on anything else. So he just decided to go with it and hope Engie was right when he’d said Spy would like it no matter what. Because of how late he was in deciding he ended up staying up late into the night working on it and his hand was cramped up by the time he’d finished drawing it. Luckily, it was the weekend, meaning there was no battle the next day.

Despite having stayed up past midnight, Scout still woke up at the same time. Leaving him feeling sleepy but not in a way that meant he could go back to sleep any time soon. So he flopped out of bed and looked over his drawing again.

It was a portrait of Spy and Scout, Spy standing behind Scout with his hands on his shoulders similar to lots of pictures Scout had seen of his friends or brothers with their fathers. Scout had made no strong attempt at making it look realistic, embracing an almost cartoony style. He’d drawn his mom a similar portrait of her some years back when he’d been struggling on what to get her for her birthday – it had started the trend of him drawing her something every year – and she’d _loved_ it. She’d had it framed and hung it up on her wall even.

Would Spy like it though? Scout had drawn him looking happy, maybe even proud. If it wasn’t for the ski mask they’d have looked like a perfectly normal and happy father/son duo. How would Spy react to that? The longer Scout stared at it the surer he became that Spy would be displeased by it. But… it was too late to draw or do anything else. So with a grimace he picked it up and put it between two cardboard pieces to keep it from bending before quickly wrapping it. If Spy didn’t like it, he’d just… claim it was a joke about how they weren’t a normal loving family, and that there was no way he actually wanted that to be a reality.

He ended up delaying and dilly-dallying around, even avoiding Spy, until it was evening and well, if he stalled any longer it’d be too late. So, telling himself to man up and get through it already, he got the gift from his room and went to Spy’s door. He didn’t let himself hesitate before knocking.

Spy answered it a few seconds later. “Good afternoon Scout,” he said as he let Scout enter, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Hey Dad,” Scout replied with a grin even though he didn’t really feel like grinning right now. “Happy Birthday!”

Spy sighed as he settled back in his chair. “I was hoping you’d forgotten.”

“What? Why?” Scout forced himself to sit on the other side of the tea table.

“Just because.”

“Well uh… I _didn’t_ forget and I got you a gift.” He held it out towards Spy as if he were nothing but proud of it.

“Well, it can’t _possibly_ be worse than those hideous pathetic excuses for sweaters some of the others got me. Thank you.” He accepted it with his usual snobby grace that was more comical these days than anything else.

Scout forced himself to sit still and not fidget as Spy opened it. Spy tossed the wad of wrapping paper expertly into the trashcan before using his knife to cut the tape holding the cardboard pieces together. He placed the top one on the table and picked up the paper, flipping it around so he could see the picture on it.

He went rigid as he looked down at it. His mask combined with the angle of his face made his expression impossible to read. Meaning Scout had no way of knowing if he was pleased or insulted by the drawing. And he wasn’t looking up or saying anything so…

“You like it?” Scout asked, going for a neutral tone and posture as if Spy’s opinion didn’t matter to him one way or the other. It did though, more than he wanted to admit even to himself.

Spy looked up at him. “Yes, I like it very much Jeremy, thank you.” The use of Scout’s real name meant he was being completely honest and serious.

Scout almost let out a sigh of relief. “Good uh… I worked real hard on it and stuff you know.” He’d put more of himself into it than he’d initially intended to. “So is my gift your favourite or did someone else get you something better?” That was one way of asking how much he’d liked it. “I need to know if I should step my game up for next year or not.”

Spy rolled his eyes but he was smiling. “Your gift is my favourite.”

“Sweet.” Scout lifted a fist in victory. Why had he even been so worried?

Spy looked down at the picture again and ran his hand lightly over it. “Honestly, this kind of thing was the last thing I’d expect from you.”

“What? I’ve _never_ gotten you a joke gift for your birthday. It’s only on Christmas that I do that. I do have _some_ morals.” Birthdays were individual and special; prank gifts were allowed but only if there was also a real gift too.

Spy frowned at him. “That jack-in-a-box you got me two years ago _wasn’t_ a joke gift? _Really_?”

“The little guy in it had ski mask and a little suit, it was like a mini version of you. It even had a little knife.” A butcher’s knife since it was supposed to be scary but still close enough. “So yes, I still stand by it being a well thought out gift.” They’d only known each other for a short time back then too so Scout hadn’t known Spy would find it annoying, he _had_ suspected though but that didn’t need to be said. “I had nothing but good intentions when giving it to you, I know if there was a jack-in-the-box with a mini me in it, I’d love to receive it as a gift.”

“Well, I know what to get you for your birthday then.”

“Good.” Scout would _honestly_ be pleased with that. “You still have that jack-in-the-box though? Or did you throw it out?” Probably the latter if Scout had to guess.

“I still have it.” Spy admitted with a sigh, sounding as if he were admitting to something shameful instead of heartwarming. He’d kept a gift Scout had given him even though he hadn’t liked it. “But…” Spy looked down at the picture Scout had drawn of them again. “This not being a joke gift wasn’t what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

“I meant I didn’t know you… saw me like this.” He gestured to the paper in his hand.

“What? Like… as my dad? ‘Cause like you _are_ and stuff. We’re not a normal family but… we’re still family.” Perhaps even a _loving_ family. Saying that out loud would be tantamount to walking through a brick wall though. “So, that’s how I drew us. I drew Mom a similar picture once a while ago and she loved it so… I thought maybe you’d like it to.” He shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal.

“Yeah, she would like something like this.” Spy sighed sadly before looking at Scout again. “Thank you, really, I… appreciate this.”

“Well… you’re very welcome. I worked hard on it.” And was proud of it, especially considering the reaction it had got. It was the perfect gift, he’d done a good job on it.


End file.
